


Tumblr Collection

by Molnija



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Multi, ratings are usually G or T everything else will be specified, they aren't connected unless I mention that they are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-06-20 09:31:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15531318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molnija/pseuds/Molnija
Summary: I've been writing a lot of small little snippets and posting them on Tumblr so I made this to keep them all in one place on here, too!the ships & verses are in the title of each chapter ~





	1. Iwayama (some shade of post-canon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a really really short Iwayama thing I wrote back in April 2017 after talking with someone about the ship. there's really nothing to it, it's just. a little thingy. Iwayama is a good ship folks

_Godzilla_  is kind of like the dinosaur movies Tsukki made him sit through when they were children, except much more destructive and a lot less … Interesting.

He’d never say that out loud though, with Hajime alert in excitement next to him, the arm he has around Tadashi’s shoulders almost comically tense. This is a movie they haven’t seen before, but it’s not that different from the other ones they’ve watched.

“Oh my god,” Hajime whispers and Tadashi doesn’t really know why. It’s a lot easier to pay attention to the warm, strong body he’s leaning against, the soft, fluffy blanket draped over them … Or the occasional sleepy grumble of Ruka in the dog bed … Or the flickering of the screen in the otherwise dark living room …

Someone screams in the movie and he flinches. He almost fell asleep there – it would be so easy, too, and he doubts Hajime would notice, as focused as he is on the television screen. He’s happy to see him happy, though, and his gaze settles on Hajime’s features, eyes wide, lips parted, staring at the screen as if it holds the secret to the universe. It’s the cutest thing; he always insists on calling Tadashi cute but even though most people wouldn’t know, he can be just as adorable.

It’s almost a miracle when he blinks and turns to Tadashi, visibly confused. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing!” he answers with a smile almost as bright as his heart feels. Nothing could ever be wrong, not when they’re together.

(But next time, they’re watching a different movie.)


	2. Matsuhana (YouTube Duo AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you ever have a dumb idea you just kinda have to write out? ya. this is from November 2017 and I still distinctly remember writing it in class //coughs

The title of the post reads  _Kobe Gala Vlog Analysis_  and Takahiro already know it’s going to be a good one.

“Issei, get your butt over here! This one has a bunch of notes already!”

Issei leans over the sofa and hums. “You’re so impatient. Wait until they notice the little details.”

“But it’s so much more fun watching from the beginning. Nobody has even had the chance to argue yet, we can watch the chaos unravel.”

He’s silent for a moment before clicking his tongue and hopping over the backrest, landing next to Takahiro. “I hate it when you have a point. What are they saying?”

The post is pretty much what he expected. He made a vlog of their visit at a gala in Sendai and they’re taking it apart frame by frame, looking for any sort of interaction between him and Issei, which there is a lot of. In fact, he paid extra attention this time to be as handsy as possible.

If this one goes like all others tend to do, he can predict how it will end. The person who posted it will make a statement about how there’s no way they’re not dating, and then people will argue that they don’t know that and that Takahiro and Issei have disputed it over and over again, and the more traction to post gains the more entertaining it gets.

Of course, that’s because he knows that he and Issei have been together for five years and engaged for one.

Look, this whole funny gaming videos on YouTube thing exploded before they knew it and suddenly people were shipping them. Takahiro has to commend them on their exemplary taste, but he is also a man drawn to chaos and destruction. Confusing people is his specialty.

Thankfully, his fiancé shares his enthusiasm.

“Hey, they noticed we were holding hands in that scene,” Issei points out and leans forward to grab a rice cracker from the coffee table. “Even though the table was hiding it.”

He makes an approving sound. The fandom is catching on quickly. Of course, not quickly enough to figure out that all analysing is meaningless, but that’s the joy of it, isn’t it?

“Refresh the page,” Issei says when they’re finished reading and sure enough, when he does, someone has already made a rebuttal. “ _They’re friends, god damn it. Stop reaching._  And a fed up looking emoji.”

“I mean, they kinda have a point.” He steals Issei’s half eaten rice cake and takes a bite. “But would friends be this affectionate at a gala?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Depends on the people. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do it to confuse even more people.”

“Yeah, can’t argue with that. But hey, they’re not supposed to figure out, right?” Until they marry at least, it’d be difficult to hide that. Maybe they’ll make a big reveal video on the wedding day and go all ‘surprise, we’ve been toying with you all, we’re actually in love’. And half of the people will be surprised and half won’t be but most of them will be in a conflicted state of ‘that’s rude’ and ‘but it does sound like something they’d do, so it kinda makes sense’.

“You’re such an ass. It’s why I love you.”

“Oh, I know, Issei, I know.”

But the fans don’t know. At least not for certain. He has to admit it’s one of the better ideas he’s had, it always gives them something to talk about.

Besides, with people constantly arguing about whether they’re in love or not, it’s very easy to remember why they are.


	3. Miya Twins (pre-canon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing for mirror symbolism. from March 2018!

Osamu doesn’t really know what he looks like.

He has a vague idea, of course, but when he stares at himself in the mirror like right now, the person staring back is Atsumu. They made a point of parting their hair on different sides so that people can tell them apart and that only makes it more confusing – this way their reflections just make it look like they’re the other one respectively.

Sometimes he wonders if Atsumu feels the same way or if this is something that’s never passed his mind. Neither of them has ever brought it up, so he can only speculate.

He leans forward and narrows his eyes in unison with the illusion of his brother in front of him. “I’m really never safe from you, am I?”

Of course he gets no answer. The Atsumu in the mirror just glares back at him like the stubborn piece of garbage he is. That’s not so different from normal.

Perhaps he should do something new with his hair. Growing it out sounds like a hassle, but maybe he can dye it and finally feel like he actually exists every once in a while. It’d be a nice symbolic gesture for when they start junior high school next month. Then again, their mother would probably be against it, so that’s just a farfetched dream at this point.

He flinches when he suddenly hears someone knocking on the bathroom door. “Hurry up in there, I still gotta shower!”

Sure enough, he’s never safe from Atsumu.

He sighs and turns to leave. Dealing with two of them at once would be too much on his poor, poor sanity.

Outside, his brother is leaning on the wall, arms crossed and a scowl on his face like he’s trying to look all cool and intimidating. “Finally.”

Osamu imitates his scowl perfectly. “What, ‘finally’, it’s been less than five minutes.”

“Way more time than anyone needs to pee.” And with that he’s gone, the door shutting behind him with a loud slam.

He stares at it for a while. Tries to think of something concrete, but all that’s swirling around in his head is an abstract mush of nothing in particular.

Sometimes he wonders what life is like for people who don’t have a near-perfect copy of them around all the time. (Well, perfect appearance-wise at least, his personality could use some work.)

He’ll never know, so he might as well stop wondering.


	4. Akaoi (Time Traveller AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't be fooled by the previous chapters, most of what I write is Akaoi. from April 2018!

Tooru doesn’t know when he fell in love.

It doesn’t matter, really; his life has no beginning and for all it’s worth, there may have never been a time where he wasn’t in love. Just like breathing, it comes to him naturally and he fears that if he stopped, he would desist. Not die, never die, but just –  _end_.

That’s why he keeps chasing him.

Well, that and many other reasons. If it was only his existence, he supposes it wouldn’t matter as much, he could bear being apart and absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever they say. In fact, it’d probably be better if he kept to himself, for the sake of all of them. Messing too much with the happenings of the world could cause a domino effect that, in a worst-case scenario, could push the world into despair and complete destruction.

Truly, staying away would be the selfless thing to do.

But when he has Keiji like this, fast asleep in his arms, his soft sleepy murmurs the only sound in the otherwise silent night, how could he ever be selfless?

He’s a merchant this time, travelling from city to city to sell jewellery. Not the most lucrative job, but as Tooru has observed, nobles seem to take a liking to his goods. Or perhaps just to Keiji himself – Tooru always thought his eyes look like bright aquamarines and this time around they don’t stand out as much, with his clothes fancy and spotless and his hair well-kempt. It’s quite the contrast to his last appearance as a battle-worn soldier in World War I. That was a particularly painful one, and he never knew what became of him before he had to leave.

He appreciates having him here in a more peaceful time, even if it means the cities smell like god-knows-what. Flush toilets have yet to be invented. This place is nice though, a quiet little hotel on the outskirts of the city surrounded by flowers where they both ran into each other looking for a place to stay.

Tooru would consider his love to be a delusion if it wasn’t for Keiji. No matter how many times they meet, no matter how many years in the past or the future their last meeting happened, he always recognises him. While Tooru himself lives but one never-ending life, Keiji is mortal in the broadest sense of the word. He’s not entirely sure about the logistics of all of it but it seems he just keeps getting reincarnated, and perhaps his own travels are related to him since they always seems to end up in the same places. It’s like fate itself has woven them together and only allowed them to stay so far apart.

Keiji doesn’t retain memories from his previous lives or those yet to come, but he always knows Tooru, and the thing he says when they meet is always the same. His name, and then, quietly,

“There you are.”

And Tooru melts to the sound of his voice.

Of course, even when they’re happy it’s only temporary. He has no control about when he has to leave and wakes up at another place in another time. More often than not he doesn’t even get to say goodbye. Sometimes he wonders if it’s a punishment for something he’s done and long forgotten, to have his soulmate so close to touch but getting pulled away over and over again. That’s not even to mention all the friends he made and never had a chance to see again, because they’re not Keiji, they’re not his.

His life is a cruel one. Perhaps Keiji’s are even worse – at least Tooru always gets to meet him again, yet for him, he’s only a heartbeat in his time on earth, each and every one.


	5. Oiyaha (canonverse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a mess with no ending because that's what Yahaba is, really. one day I'll make you happy, my son. from June 2018 although I swear it was older than that ...

Yahaba Shigeru is, figuratively, fucked.

That’s all he can think about as he’s staring out of the classroom window. This is one of the few places from where you can see the little back garden behind the chemistry building of Aoba Johsai, and it’s nothing new that he catches someone confessing to their crush from here in his remote last row seat while the teacher is blabbering on about oxidation or something equally as confusing, and normally he finds it mildly amusing at most. Today is different though.

Today the person being confessed to is none other than Oikawa Tooru, captain of the volleyball club and his respected senpai. That, too, is a common occurrence, but this is the first time he’s actually catching it live, and the usual feeling of mild displeasure when hearing about it has been replaced by something that can only be described as frankly undeserved rage.

It took him only a few seconds to realise where said rage is coming from, and as soon as he figured it out, a lot of things started to make sense. So now he’s sitting here half pissed off and half regretting every single life decision that has ever led up to this moment, starting with joining the volleyball club in junior high.

Normally when someone talks about some girls (and, very rarely, boys – they seem to be more drawn to Iwaizumi most of the time) flocking to Oikawa and Shigeru’s disdain must be clearly written on his face, Watari nudges him and quietly says something like “jealous?”, and Shigeru always says no, because of course he’s not jealous, why would he be jealous, he could have a girlfriend if he tried. He does get an above average amount of chocolate on Valentine’s Day. Oikawa may be popular but Shigeru isn’t exactly  _un_ popular.

Right now, though, he kind of wishes he shared this class with Watari, because “jealous” summarises his feelings quite beautifully.

Jealous of the wrong person.

“Yahaba-kun? Are you going to answer my question or keep staring out of the window?”

He flinches and turns to look at the teacher, who is staring at him expectantly.

“Uh …” He has absolutely no idea what they’ve been talking about, even. “I-I’m sorry, what was the question again?”

Quiet laughter buzzes through the room and he feels incredibly stupid, as he should. But this isn’t his fault. This is this stupid girl’s fault. She was the one who distracted him by just  _having_ to confess to  _his_  senpai right now. Can’t they do this during break? Actually, can’t they … Not do this at all? That’d be great. Just stay away from Oikawa.

Oh god, he’s so fucked.

 

* * *

 

Watari’s place is nice and small and always quiet, so they often study together there. It does wonders for Shigeru’s focus somehow, maybe it’s something about the air since he lives near a forest. Today, of course, his concentration might as well be a government conspiracy.

This cruel world just loves to remind him of his failures, as the chemistry teacher gave them an extra amount of homework that’s going to keep him busy all weekend, but thinking about chemistry just makes him think about that lesson again and honestly, he doesn’t really know what this exercise sheet is trying to tell him. He probably wouldn’t even without that distraction. Chemistry, like math, can kindly fuck off.

“Are you going to actually start?” Watari asks without looking up from his own homework. It’s the first thing he’s said in half an hour.

“I have a crush on Oikawa-san,” Shigeru blurts out. It takes him a moment to realise what he just said was not, in fact, an excuse as to why he hasn’t started yet.

But before he can even be shocked at himself, his friend says matter-of-factly, “Well, yeah, but that won’t do your homework for you.”

‘Well, yeah’?

“I have a crush on Oikawa-san,” he repeats, voluntarily this time. Clearly Watari must just not have heard him correctly.

“Are you hoping that if you say it enough it’ll ignore what I just said?” Watari is still not looking up.

“Are …” This is ridiculous. His best friend isn’t even batting an eyelash at this piece of information. And Watari’s normally like a sponge when it comes to soaking up gossip. “Are you not gonna make a snide remark? Or at least act surprised?”

“Surprised?” Watari asks, ironically sounding strangely surprised at Shigeru’s question, and finally tears his gaze away from his homework to stare at his friend with narrowed eyes. “Isn’t that common knowledge?”

What? No. What?

“Common— No! What the … I literally just found out today, why would it be common knowledge?”

Watari blinks. Once. Twice. It’s oddly unnerving. And then, slowly, he starts, “You always get ticked off when someone mentions anyone being interested in him. You blush every time he compliments you. One time he patted your head and you looked like you were about to combust. You’re always talking about how amazing he is.”

“That’s because he’s a great setter! And a great captain! He’s my idol!”

“When Matsukawa-san asked you what your type was, you literally described Oikawa-san.”

“I’m not— That’s not—” This is all wrong. This is all terrible. Sure, he may have had this crush for longer than … Well, today, but surely he wasn’t  _that_  obvious. He would have known.

_To be fair_ , he did think he was straight until … Again, today. He doesn’t necessarily  _mind_  being interested in a boy, but perhaps that clouded his own judgement. Or his genuine appreciation for Oikawa as a volleyball player and senpai was muddling it.

Hold on, why is he admitting that to himself?

“Please don’t tell me I knew this before you did.” Watari genuinely sounds disappointed. It’s a bit like when your mother finds you doing something really stupid, this tone of  _I expected better from you_.

Maybe it’s that which leads him to quietly say, “What am I supposed to do?”

The grin appearing on his friend’s face speaks of horrible, horrible things to come. “Oh, I have a plan.”


	6. Oikage (post-canon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can be read as platonic, if you consider staring into someone's eyes until they're burned into your mind platonic I guess ... from July 2018!

It’s not that you’ve grown used to it, not quite. Having grown used to it would mean that you’d come home in the evening and crash onto your bed and fall asleep quickly and without an issue, when really you haven’t slept properly in weeks. Or that you’d wake up, tired still but ready to face the day as you do any other, every morning.

No, you’re not  _used_ to it. It’s more that you’ve accepted it. This is your life now, whether you want it or not, and someday it’ll feel as normal as the one before that did. You just need time. You’ve always been one to easily adjust to new situations.

Then again, you’ve never been alone.

You’d tell stories of what happened throughout your life ever since moving smack in the middle of Tokyo but to be honest, you’re not really sure yourself. A bunch of things did happen but they’re all muddled together in your mind and pulling out any of them would be too much work.

At least you’re still here. Quitting wouldn’t suit you either way.

How long has it been?  _Tick, tock_  goes the obnoxiously loud clock high up on the wall that you’ve been meaning to take down but never remember to, but it doesn’t tell you anything but that whoever made it needs to burn in hell. Or maybe it’s just this loud because everything is a gunshot in complete silence. Still, you think it’s not just you.

Your schedule would say something like one and a half years perhaps, maybe more, you’re not sure where exactly in the semester you are right now but it seems about right. Dates have become arbitrary, only important for deadlines.

Not that any of it matters. Whether it was yesterday or a million years ago, it doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t. Once something is over, when it finished plays no part anymore. Because it’s over.

That’s why you haven’t been in the gym ever since that day. There’s no need to. That’s over.

It’s over.

_Over_.

If it is as long ago as it feels, why does it still hurt so much? Doesn’t time heal all wounds or whatever the hell they say?

Maybe it’s your own fault.

You’re here now after all.

You don’t really know how you  _got_  here, but in the end that doesn’t really matter either. The action of going here is over now too, it ended right the moment when your feet came to a halt because you heard another achingly loud sound from inside.

You haven’t been in the gym ever since that day.

Yet you still know the sounds of it like the back of your hand, the  _smack_  of a hand hitting the ball, the  _blam_  of that same ball smashing to the ground, the little  _bump bump bump_  as it hops a few metres forward before coming to a stop. And then the  _squeak_  of sports shoes on the floor. Back then, you found that one pretty annoying. Now you wish you still could.

You shouldn’t look.

It’s over.

It’s over but it still  _hurts_ , so you look anyway, because you’re either a madman or a masochist.

You don’t really know what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

The boy in the gym is alone too, though he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He’s wearing a familiar scowl on a familiar face, the fringe of his black hair is so long it’s almost falling into his eyes ( _blue_ , you know they’re blue even though you can’t see them, because you’ve seen them many times and they are pretty high up on the list of things you wish you could forget), and his t-shirt is a bit too tight.

He’s grown, that jerk. Taller than you, perhaps or perhaps not, but definitely broader. Maybe he wouldn’t be if you were still playing, though. Still you can’t help but see him as smaller than you regardless, because he’s always been. That’s the nice part about the senpai-kouhai thing. You kind of like the feeling of having someone feel so much younger than you even though it’s a year of difference or two at best.

Not that he probably sees you as a senpai anymore. That was only because of volleyball, after all, and that’s over.

You don’t say a word, you’re sure of it. In fact, you’re frozen in place. There’s no way he could have noticed.

But Kageyama Tobio is a genius after all, if the dumbest one you’ve ever met.

He turns his head and his scowl falls.

Somehow that hurts your heart just a bit. You used to always be able to get under his skin. Now he just looks surprised to see you here, not pleasantly but not angrily either, and those blue eyes hold no trace of malice.

_Blue, so dark it’s almost black, like the night sky when it’s illuminated by myriads of stars._

Maybe you’re just imagining it. There’s no way you can actually see them properly from here – you’re five metres, if not more, away from him. Jot that down as another thing that don’t matter. You’d never forget those eyes. You spent too long staring into them, as much as you hate admitting them.

“Oikawa-san,” he says, much like back in junior high when it’d be followed by a  _will you teach me how to serve?_  Which of course he’d never ask now. Why would he? “Are you still on this school?”

“What do you mean,  _still_?” Yup, that’s Tobio alright. Getting you riled up in six simple words. It’s almost a talent. “What do you take me for, a quitter?”

“You did quit volleyball.”

You can’t help but wince at the innocence in that statement.

“I didn’t! I mean …” Curse him. Curse him and his way to make you lose your cool all too easily. “I did, but not because I wanted to! It was an injury, you hear? An in-ju-ry.”

“No, I mean …” He frowns as if trying to rephrase his words. Maybe he has changed a bit – thinking before speaking? That’s a new one. “When I heard about that, I thought you’d still be, like, a manager of something, or maybe a coach. Instead of leaving altogether.”

You thought about that. And then immediately discarded that idea. Watching from the sidelines while everyone else gets to play is the bitterest form of torture. Tobio should know that too. Or maybe he’s forgotten, because he had that great team in high school that let him be the king he needed to be. Junior high is over, after all.

No, you didn’t quit. Clinging on in the most desperate ways would have been a lousy excuse for  _keeping going_. It’s not the same thing. It’s really not.

“Then, uhm …” Another pause. He still looks only mildly confused. You wish he’d look at you with that intense expression again like he did from the other side of the court. But there’s no need for that anymore, not for him. It’s over. You’re over. “You should cheer us on at least.”

“Like hell,” you spit and a glimpse of that old fear gleams up back in his eyes. “You don’t need it anyway. You’re a genius.”

“You were, too.”

Once upon a time, you might have debated him on that. You’re not a genius of any kind. That’s the whole reason he could surpass you. But now it doesn’t matter anymore because that’s all in past tense and frankly, past tense doesn’t do shit for the present.

“So what? Makes no difference.”

“I guess.” He’s standing there now like ordered and not fetched, both of you are, and suddenly it feels like you’re both at the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong gym on the wrong planet.

It’s been feeling like that for a while.

Somehow you know what to do. Really, it was never much of a question. But despite everything you’re still petty and he’s still the person that used to be your biggest rival and that innocent child’s voice is  _still_  ringing in your ears whenever you think about your last year of junior high, but.

“So what were you doing? Serve practice?”

“Can’t do much else on my own.” He’s not wrong.

You smile. It’s not quite what it used to be, you haven’t needed it much recently, but it should be at least a shadow of that intimidating smirk Iwaizumi always says pisses him off. “Are your serves any good nowadays?”

“They are.” Ah, that’s more like it – a tinge of the frustration of someone who can’t please the person whose opinion matters most to him.

It feels nice. Familiar. Like things are maybe, just maybe, not entirely over quite yet.

“Show me, then.”


	7. Akaoi (college times)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> libraries are a wonderful aesthetic and so is Akaoi. from July 2018!

The library is quiet as always, especially in their usual spot, hidden in a corner between bookcases right by a window on the fourth floor. Tooru likes this one in particular because the view out on the lake by campus is nice and the only table only fits two seats, meaning he’s alone with Keiji whenever they study here.

It’s snowing today, for the first time this winter, and it only makes everything feel more serene. It’s a white powdered world out there that he’s come to appreciate more recently, now that he actually has the patience to look.

He does not, however, have the patience to deal with his homework. It’s nothing particularly complicated but he thinks that’s why he’s unmotivated to do it – this class drags on and on and they’re given so much homework every week for topics he’s already gone over in another course last semester. The only reason he sits down to do it every time is because his professor gets scary when someone hasn’t brought everything.

Well, that and this is the only time he gets to be like this. Wednesday, 12 to 2 PM are their only shared free time between classes and while they see each other every day in the dorm, he finds it easier to study with Keiji around. Or maybe he just finds it easier to do  _anything_  with Keiji around. Something about his presence is calming but still exudes a certain sense of ‘if you don’t finish your homework you will face consequences’, said consequences including being made to buy dinner for the evening and not getting any more kisses that day, which frankly he will not stand for.

They don’t talk, not usually. Like always, Keiji is listening to music and like always, Tooru is not. To be honest, he doesn’t really know what kind of music his boyfriend likes, they don’t really talk about it – it’s usually books and movies – and when they’re in the car they just listen to the radio because it’s convenient.

Normally he wouldn’t bother him right now, as he’s diligently scribbling away on an exercise sheet while occasionally typing something on his laptop (and looking very cute while doing so, with his eyebrows furrowed and his nose ever so slightly scrunched if he finds something he doesn’t like seeing). Tooru can be a little shit, but he knows what it’s like to try and work on something to the best of your ability. Right now, however, he’s just very  _curious_.

He looks at him for a long time, contemplating. Christmas break is coming up soon, everyone’s already kind of slacking off so why shouldn’t they? And it’s not like he’d be barring him from working or anything. He just … Feels like knowing.

So he reaches over Keiji’s chair to pull the earbud out of his right ear and place it in his own, not without hesitating – if this turns out to be death metal or something he’d burst out laughing – but when he hears what is playing from it, he can’t help a smile.

“Beethoven? How cultivated,” he says quietly and chuckles at Keiji’s slightly annoyed expression.

“It helps me focus. Maybe you should try it too if you have nothing better to do than interrupt me.” He turns back to his work, though, and continues as if nothing happened. Sometimes Tooru thinks he’s more comfortable with his antics than he cares to admit.

He hums, cocking his head. “Makes sense, I suppose. I mean, music with lyrics is distracting when you’re trying to read. Why classical though?”

“I just like the sound of it. Isn’t that why you listen to music?” It’s oddly adorable to see him like this. The slight blush on his cheeks is telling; people do always say that Akaashi Keiji looks like a refined person, not helped by his literature major, and it’s easy to tell he feels a bit embarrassed to play into the cliché. “I’m surprised you know this one though, it’s a more obscure song if you’re not familiar with his work.”

“I used to listen to it a lot, actually. Not this one in particular, but classical music. I know my stuff.” Ah, that kind of brings in good memories from his school days.

“I’m surprised,” Keiji mutters, sounding serious about it. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Oh, I really just started because I thought it’d make me look sophisticated.”

“Are you supposed to admit something like that so easily?”

“But I ended up gaining an actual appreciation for it,” he continues without honouring that with a response. “It’s like, you think it’s all the same old stuff but there’s so many nuances to it, and there’s a lot of pieces that are genuinely beautiful. Some even make you emotional with only music. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Please tell me you’re not going to cry on me over Beethoven. That would be difficult to explain if someone came by.” Keiji’s voice is dry as a desert but Tooru has come to know the certain edge of fondness to it, too. It’s something he likes to think is reserved for him.

“I won’t, I won’t. I’m just saying, it’s kind of nice. Like we share something.”

There’s a moment of silence, only accompanied by the sounds of more writing and the song quietly going on in his right ear, and he almost thinks the conversation is over until suddenly Keiji says, “We share a lot of things already.”

“That kind of comes with a relationship, I guess.” It’s still a bit strange to actually call it that – before Keiji, he thought of  _relationships_  as something that didn’t really matter to him, just an obligation of society that he didn’t actually want but went along with anyway. Whether he just turned into a sappy idiot over these past two months of dating or he just needed the right person remains to be determined. He doesn’t really mind this, though.

“Supposedly so, huh.”

This time the silence feels more final, comfortable, something they easily settle into now. And it’s not really  _silence_  anymore, not when he knows he’s listening to the same song as Keiji and they don’t need words, not always.

Tooru looks out the window at the snow dancing quietly in the wind and smiles to himself before finally turning back to his homework as the song ends and the next one begins, this time for both of them.


	8. Akaoi (college times)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, this is just. really self-indulgent. but all fic is, that's the point of it, so it's okay. °^° from, like ... yesterday? so, August 2018!

Look, he doesn’t know how he ended up like this either. By all accounts, they should all be in their own tents, safe and sound and warmly snuggled into their sleeping bags. And, well, he  _is_. Tooru isn’t the problem here ( _for once in your life_ , he can almost hear Iwaizumi scoff).

He never asked for this team-building exercise doubling as an excuse for their manager to torture them all with her hobby of hiking up mountains that frankly should just be left alone, but he’s not going to complain about it now. Mostly because he wouldn’t find his way back home if they kicked him out of the group, but reasons don’t always matter.

There are a bunch of questions he could ask, like  _why am I awake at three in the morning_  or  _has it stopped snowing yet_ , but the most pressing one concerns the body he’s currently sharing his sleeping bag with.

What on earth is Akaashi Keiji doing here?

Sharing body warmth isn’t that bad of an idea on this cold-ass mountain and Tooru isn’t necessarily angry about his annoyingly pretty kouhai cuddling him, but couldn’t he have  _asked_ first instead of infiltrating his tent in the middle of the night while Tooru was asleep? That’s so unlike him, too. Normally he’s the kind of person who won’t even attempt a new play in practice when he thinks he can’t do it. Not exactly what he’d call a ‘risk-taker’ and certainly not an outgoing person, or a clingy one for that matter.

But he’s here right now, clutching onto Tooru like his life depends on it, though with quiet, calm breathing that indicates he’s at least having a good night’s rest if nobody else is, so he supposes reasons really don’t always matter.

If this was a conversation, he could probably come up with a snarky remark, but it’s not and he’s honestly just dumbfounded right now, alternating between staring at the ceiling and tilting his head to glance at Akaashi – he doesn’t dare turn around fully, both because it’d mean the space between their faces would be basically non-existent and because he feels like he hasn’t earned this. If Akaashi looks like an angel that’s very disappointed in you when he’s awake, his sleeping face is … Well,  _ethereal_. He kind of hates it; he hoped that at least in his sleep he’d look dumb or ugly but far from it. He doesn’t snore either, in fact he’s so quiet Tooru would assume he’s about to die if it wasn’t for the fact that he can feel his breath on his skin.

It’s oddly soothing. This could be a much more comfortable situation if he’d just asked beforehand and Tooru had had time to prepare, mentally and physically – god damn it, this sleeping bag is kind of small when you share it with another person the same size as you – and he’s trying his best to enjoy the fact that his kouhai/rival (protégé? crush?) is being extremely adorable and he has something to hold over him now. Still, Tooru’s heartbeat should probably not be this fast, that seems unhealthy.

At least he’s not cold. Instead, he feels like he’s burning. It’s silly in a way, to react to this in such a clichéd way; they’re not high schoolers anymore, they’re supposed to be responsible university students, and yet this is more like some childish first love bullshit. But damn if it isn’t effective.

Akaashi stirs next to him and Tooru’s heart rate picks up yet again –  _what if he wakes up? I don’t have anything I can say yet!_  – but then he pulls him even closer (which he assumed to be impossible, this may actually be a talent) and sighs contently and yup, he’s fucked, he’s so fucked, goodbye cruel world it was nice knowing you—

Tooru glances at him again, for longer this time, and wonders how the hell he’s supposed to sleep tonight.


	9. Akaoi (who even knows, but it's Christmas-y)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes you just have soft, warm feelings. and then this happens. from the day before Christmas Eve, so like, Christmas Eve Eve?

Keiji is sitting on the bed, eyes trained on a book. Occasionally his lips twist into a smile, sometimes a frown, and every so often he flips a few pages back, as if to try and find a connection between what’s happening at which points in the story.

Tooru has been watching him for a while now, but he doesn’t think he’s noticed.

The laptop has gone into standby mode a few minutes ago and the papers he was supposed to work on are lying on the desk untouched. To be fair, it’s not that urgent; he just wanted to get a few things done before Christmas so he won’t have as big of a workload later, but he finds it’s much more interesting to observe his fiancés reactions to the book he’s so wrapped up in right now.

Over the years, he’s figured out how to read Keiji quite well, from little gestures and subtle changes in his expressions, and he thinks they’ve both lowered their guard around each other either way, but it’s still rare to catch him so visibly invested in something that isn’t volleyball. It’s cute.

He can’t read the cover of the book from across the room, but there’s a little illustration on it, something that looks like happy children playing in the snow. It’s even glittering. A fitting story for the season for sure, he can imagine it gets much more immersive with the cinnamon scented candles and the smell of pine flowing all through their shared apartment.

He’s a little interested. Tooru doesn’t read a lot – there’s a few books he likes but he’s more of a movie person overall – but Keiji does, and sometimes they find something they both enjoy and can talk about for hours on end. And he’s clearly enjoying this one.

With a smile, he decides he might as well take action instead of sitting here staring like a creep, so he stands up and joins Keiji on the bed, nestling against his side.

“Reading?” he asks.

“No, I’m looking at the words because they’re so aesthetic,” Keiji replies dryly, but looks away from the pages anyway. When Tooru glances over, he sees he caught him right at a chapter break – lucky, otherwise he might have gotten thrown off the bed for interrupting him. “Yes, reading. Rereading, actually. It’s a story I’ve liked since I was a child, I figured right now was a good time to go through it again.”

_Aw, cute._  “What’s it about?”

“A boy who meets Santa and has to help him deliver all the presents. From a certain point, each chapter tells a little self-contained story, but they all have an overarching plot and a moral … It’s sweet.” Keiji looks back at the book with that, a melancholic smile on his face.

“A children’s story?” Tooru muses, but Keiji cocks his head.

“Mhm, not really. Children would like it, but the target demographic is everyone who feels like it, I suppose. Do you want to read it together? I don’t mind starting over from the beginning.”

He rests his head on his fiancés shoulder and looks at the page for a while. He’s just now noticing that the chapter titles are adorned with swirly ornaments.  _Pretty._  “Wouldn’t it get annoying for you? You’re a faster reader than me.”

“Since when are you so considerate?”

“I am  _always_  considerate and very kind to everyone around me, thank you. Also you get scary when you’re annoyed.” He presses a quick kiss on Keiji’s cheek before he can argue with him. “I’d like to read it though.”

“I’ll read it out loud to you then,” Keiji suggests, and Tooru sits up a little straighter. That’s unusual. He’s not one to propose such a thing, he’s usually more of a listener.

Maybe it’s because it’s almost Christmas, or because the story means so much to him – or maybe he’s just feeling like it. Heck, Tooru isn’t about to complain. “I’d love that.”

“Alright then, settle in.”

He flips back to the first page and Tooru closes his eyes and cuddles closer to him. “All ready.”

Keiji quietly clears his throat and he feels him shift a little so their position is more comfortable, and he begins. “In a small town in the mountains, a place where every day is calm …”


	10. Akaoi (Vampire AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this AU is much more stupid than this snippet lets on. from uuh two days ago, so February 2019!

He saw Oikawa pacing in his peripheral vision, heard him a little, too, steps soft but audible on the carpeted floor. That was unusual to say the least – normally he wouldn’t have made even the smallest sound, aware as he was of his ability to show up when you least expected him to give you a good scare.

Even so, Keiji kept his eyes trained on the book in front of him, as if just staring at it would give him enough of a knowledge of what was in there even though his mind was entirely elsewhere.

Taking a book with him to his bedroom was yet another unusual occurrence; he preferred reading in the library, but he had some assignments left to do and staying in there at this time of day, or night, rather, would surely have earned him some complaints from the housekeepers. He had a desk in his room too, so it was alright, he supposed.

He heard Oikawa stop pacing and take a breath, only to not say anything and start again, up and down and up and down the room. It wasn’t a big room, averagely sized, maybe, and mostly taken up by the frankly enormous bed that had been here since he’d moved in, so surely he was getting tired of it.

There were a few things Keiji wanted to say, but instead he just turned the page, glanced at the candle next to him to make sure it wasn’t dripping hot wax, and continued pretending to read.

“You,” Oikawa finally spoke up and he felt the breeze of his whirling around more so than he saw him do it, “are starving me. You’re starving me, _Aka-chan_ , and you’re doing it all for the sake of science!”

He was behind him right now, so he couldn’t really see, but Keiji was sure he was pointing at him. An exaggerated motion, common for their banter. What wasn’t common was the husk in Oikawa’s voice, and he knew for certain that if he were to turn and face him right now, his expression would be pained, somewhere under the playful scowl.

Keiji didn’t turn. “I told you to stop calling me that. It’s insulting.”

“I have bigger problems than hurting your _feelings_ right now,” Oikawa spat, as if the words themselves were disgusting.

Funny, Keiji thought. For him of all people to be acting like that. After all, he was the emotional one of the two.

“Which would be?” He had to admit, it was fun, a little. This was his first time seeing a vampire deprived of human blood outside of the dungeons, where they actually were being actively starved. It hadn’t been that long, and Oikawa wasn’t suffering, he knew that for a fact. He would be, if this went on, but Keiji had no intentions of going that far.

“If you just let me out—”

“I won’t,” Keiji interrupted him before he could sweet-talk him into doing exactly that. “And you can’t leave without my permission.”

“I _know_ ,” Oikawa snapped. “Unless I kill you.”

Thinking back at the enchanted knife Keiji always kept within reach, he couldn’t help a small laugh. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Goodness, your attitude! You used to know to be polite to your elders, you know.”

“You’re rubbing off on me,” he mused with a smile. “Besides, didn’t you say I was being too much of a doormat?”

Oikawa huffed but said no more, and for a while they just waited in silence, Keiji’s eyes tracing the letters he couldn’t decipher, Oikawa standing behind him with crossed arms, or so he presumed.

“You don’t have to worry,” Keiji found himself muttering after a while. “I won’t let you die.”

“Funny you’d say that, considering you’re doing exactly that right now.” Yes, from the sound of his voice he hadn’t moved an inch. Impressive, for how unable he’d been to sit still up until now. “I need human blood or else I’ll starve.”

Was it time? Probably. He didn’t want to torture him for much longer, no matter how much fun he was having.

Keiji feigned a sigh, closed the book, and stood up slowly. He turned around in no hurry and sure enough, he’d been right.

He’d been studying vampires for a while now, so he knew some things. First, their eyes darkened when they were hungry – like Oikawa’s usual chocolate brown being dyed mahogany right now. Second, in order to satiate their hunger, they didn’t need to kill their victim unless they had truly been starving – something Oikawa claimed he was above, though considering that it was usually easier to kill and dispose of people than leave them alive, that was probably a white lie. And third, they were very susceptible to temptation in this state.

It was a little bit too easy, Keiji thought as he studied Oikawa’s expression, but it was effective.

“So?” he asked, trying his best to keep his expression neutral, and unbuttoned his shirt just enough to push it aside and reveal his bare neck. “You have a perfectly fine human right here.”

It was an admission of trust, perhaps. He’d be truly vulnerable for the first time like this, and it still stood that the magic binding them together could be broken only if one of them were to die. If Oikawa wanted to be free again, all he had to do was take this opportunity.

But that was part of it all. He had a hypothesis, and he had a method, and maybe, just maybe, he had a bit too much faith in him.

He didn’t miss Oikawa’s tongue darting over his lips ever so quickly, even when he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. “Really? Why would you let me?”

“I told you, I have a point to prove.” It was the truth.

(Not all of it, perhaps, not anymore, but he didn’t need to know that just yet.)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! idk how often I'll update this but you can catch more of these and my other nonsense on Tumblr @akaashi-tooru!


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